Chosen Family
by LightningSkies1
Summary: Three years ago, Skye's bully had left and gotten adopted by a nice, young couple. She never put much thought into it until the same couple returned several years later to foster her. AU
1. Lancelot and Night Skies

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I shall only say this once._**

 ** _Notes: Apologies that Hunter is a jackass in this chapter. Don't worry, he'll change the next time Skye sees him. Also, mild talk of religion, after all, Skye lives at a Christian orphanage._**

* * *

It wasn't exactly a secret that Mary Sue Poots hated her name. Actually, it was the exact opposite of secret, everyone knew. They just didn't care. The nuns wanted her to use her "real" name, the bullies used it to taunt her (apparently, a Mary Sue in a story was someone who was annoyingly perfect and everyone wanted her, how ironic), and everyone else didn't give a shit.

Mary thought back to the first time she cursed in front of a nun and smirked. The mental picture was definitely worth it. Besides, she couldn't blame Mary for picking up on the language, it wasn't her fault she got sent to a foster home where the father cursed a lot. If the nuns wanted someone to blame, they should blame the social worker who put her there.

"Hey Mary Shih Tzu!" The comment gathered laughs from the other onlookers and his goons. Mary gritted her teeth. Why did that bastard Lance Hunter love to make people's lives hell? What'd the younger kids ever do to him?

"Hey, Lancelot." Lance's ears and face turned red as a ripple of chuckles went through the group.

He stomped up to her, gave her a glare that would have put her six feet under if looks could kill, and shoved her. _Hard._

Mary bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying out in pain and she felt blood trail down her leg. Jerkwad.

Lance knelt down, met her eye to eye, before giving an evil smirk. "At least people want to adopt me," the older child hissed into her ear. "You're just the reject kid." Lance got up and slung an arm around two of his followers. "Let's go, guys."

When they disappeared from her line of sight, Mary finally let out a sigh and checked herself over for injuries. What was that guy's problem?

* * *

When Mary didn't run into Hunter or his goon squad the next day, she knew something was up. They didn't leave her alone unless one of them got into trouble, and when their punishment finally ended, they'd target people, specifically her and a few of the younger kids, with a vengeance.

Having one of the good squad get into trouble was rare. While they were assholes around the little kids, they acted like model children in front of the nuns. That was one of the reasons the younger kids didn't tell the nuns about the bullying, no one would believe them.

It looked like she was right, Mary thought glumly as she watched the Goon Squad, strangely without Lance, approach her. Each cracked their knuckles and gave their best death stare, but she remained placid. Lance was the biggest and stupidest of the goons, he was their leader. Without him around, the bastards couldn't do much.

However, Mary didn't account for the fact it was four against one, or that each one of them had at least twenty pounds on her. The child held back a groan when one of their fists made contact with her abdomen.

With her arms clutching her side, another landed a punch on her face. Mary took a disoriented step back before spitting a mouthful of blood at the goon's feet. "The hell's your problem?" She finally rasped.

The new head goon (Paul or something like that) looked down at her bruised body before delivering hit after hit all over her thin figure. Mary curled up into a ball, hoping that God or someone was listening to her begging, that a nun would show up and put them in detention.

This wasn't the first time the assholes got rough with anyone, but they never sent more than a few punches or slaps. Nothing beyond what would knock her down, not knock her out.

"Lance left!" Patrick's confession made her blood run cold. Lance and Parker had been friends (or as close as one can be to friends in this hellhole) for years. Lance might have been a jerkwad, but he was the one who had limits, but Parsons? Not so much.

"Pedro Martinez!" Mary was never so thankful to see a nun in her life, even if it was Sister Beatrice. _Huh, so it's Pedro_. One mystery solved, she closed her eyes and welcomed the dark unconsciousness.

* * *

Despite having an actual witness, the only punishment Pedro had received was getting no desert for a week. Mary huffed at the injustice. Of course Sister Beatrice would tone it down. That bitch had it out for her.

The next couple of months were hell. Since she was the last one Lance had bullied before getting adopted, Pedro just loved singling her out and making sure that no one wanted to be friends with her. Hell, the closest thing she had to a friend was Matt Murdock, and that was because Pedro had "morals" and hurting a blind guy was a bit too far.

Not to say that Mary wasn't glad that there was a very small sliver of a decent human being in there, but she couldn't help but feel a little jealous of her friend. Matt was a favorite among nuns and teachers alike, becoming a bit of a role model for the younger kids and seen as competition by the older ones. The guy even got his own room, one without loud, wailing kids or filled with the sound of snores. He had things pretty good.

Still, Mary would never trade places with Matt. She may have now spent ten years in this hell, but at least she didn't have anything to lose. Matt had his dad and his sight, both great things to cherish, ripped away in the blink of an eye. She never experienced some of the things like love or a family, but Matt did and had to live with it being taken away from him.

"You okay?" Matt asked, handing her an apple. She took the offered fruit and nodded in thanks. Though her acquaintance was blind, he had his own way of seeing and recognized the gesture. He shot her a small smile.

"So, what'll it be this week?"

"What do you think about Cory?" It had become a thing between them, trying to figure out the perfect new name for Mary. They tried over thirty names, but none of them clicked.

"I like Cory," Matt answered. "It just doesn't feel right though."

"That's what I thought." Mary sighed. She really didn't want to be stuck with this cursed name for the rest of her life.

"Maybe we're looking at this all wrong."

She tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

"Maybe we could focus on what you like," he suggested. "We'll go from there."

"Well, I really like the stars and the moon. Sometimes, I sneak out in the middle of the night to see the constellations."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part." Mary chuckled. This kind of thing was exactly why she liked being friends with Matt. "Stars and the moon, you say? Both are in the night sky. Hey, how about Sky?"

"I like it," Mary admitted. "But something's just missing, I can't lay my finger on it."

"Yeah, something's missing," Matt agreed.

Mary thought for a few seconds until a thought came to mind. "I've got it! It's missing a vowel!

"Actually, 'y' is a-"

"Yeah, yeah," Mary waved off the piece of information. "How about we add an 'e' at the end?"

"Skye," Matt said, trying out the new name. "It's-"

"Perfect. It's perfect. Skye." The name rolled off her tongue perfectly.

* * *

Years had passed since the day Skye had chosen her name and things only got worse.

All the nuns who at least tolerated her back then hated her now. Probably because she refused to respond to any name that wasn't Skye, but if they had her name, would they blame her?

Her social worker, John Garrett, pretty much hated her more than anyone since she gave up trying on foster homes and usually came back to the orphanage mere weeks later. When she was younger, he had laughed and written it off as a rebel stage, but now, he grit his teeth whenever her name was mentioned.

Matt got adopted not too long after she and Matt talked over names Some guy named Stick had heard of him and chose to foster him. Fostering then went to adopting and Matt got a strict and distant, albeit caring, new father.

No one else really approached her to try and be friends after that, and it was okay. She wouldn't want to be friends with her either.

Her living habits changed. Instead of trying and failing to run from the goon squad, she hid, losing most of the color and muscle she had on her body. Pedro had a tendency to steal her food, and without Matt or anyone else to stop him, he got away with it, leaving Skye having to go hungry more than a few times, ribs growing more pronounced.

Skye wasn't afraid to admit it. She was a fucked up kid who thought about death way more than what was healthy for a ten year old. Her parents didn't want her, fuck them. The nuns and Garrett hated her, fuck them too. Fuck this world.

 _God_. Skye scoffed. If there was really one out there, he was a bastard.

"Skye, get back here right now!" What was Sister Beatrice going to do if Skye didn't? Throw a party, probably. She wouldn't be their problem anymore. "You come back here right now, young lady!"

Rolling her eyes, Skye jogged over the the irritated nun. "What?"

Sister Beatrice (More like Sister Bitcharice) sighed and gave her a glare. "See, this kind of attitude is exactly why people don't want to adopt you." The insults stopped aching years ago, Sister Bitchface needed new insults. "I can't believe I'm even saying this, but you're going to be fostered."

Big surprise. Several people had tried fostering her, thinking that she was a broken little bird that needed fixing. They all changed their minds pretty quickly. This one probably wouldn't be any different.

"Who is it this time?"

"A couple from a couple towns over. Their names are Phillip and Melinda Coulson."

Skye inwardly sighed. What the hell kind of name was Coulson?

* * *

"You sure about this?" Phil asked his wife, Melinda, as they looked over the file.

"Nat, Trip, and Hunter have been bugging us about getting a little sister for a while now," Mel pointed out. "This one, Skye, she needs a home."

"Think carefully about this," John Garrett said roughly. "She's a rather troublesome child."

Phil grit his teeth. That cinched the deal. Garrett was an ass. If he didn't like her, they probably would.

"Hunter talked to me about all this," Mel whispered in a low voice, quiet enough for John not to hear. " According to him, it's usually the ones who have the most offenses, behavioural or physical, that aren't too bad." Phil thought back to when they took Hunter in three long years ago.

There was no other way to say it, Hunter was a bully and a bit of a jerk. The guy gave Trip a lot of grief and cursed at Natasha when she was around. It was strange comparing the rough, brash kid from three years ago to the kind, but strange man living with them today. Hunter was their first official fostering.

Natasha came in eight years ago, asking if she could work at their gym. They immediately agreed and Mel and Nat formed a bond. Only a couple months after that, they found out Natasha was homeless and adopted her. Paperwork was a bitch, and it was a touch and go the first few months, but it was definitely worth it when he saw his oldest child give them her first true laugh.

He and Mel were friends of Trip's parents. When they passed in a car accident when Trip was nine and his aunt refused to take him, they stepped in and took him in. Phil wasn't ashamed to say that the kid had him wrapped around his little finger.

Hunter was the first kid they prepared for. They wanted to start off fostering easy, and Hunter's record was pretty clean. It wasn't too long until they found out how much the nuns lied at that orphanage. His newest kid had a lot of problems that no one dared to address or help him with. God only knows what he'd do when he got his hand on some of those nuns.

"Phil!"

He stiffened in his chair. "Huh? What'd I miss?"

Mel sighed in exasperation, but rolled her eyes. He always did this with the kids. "I think Skye would be a good addition to the family."

Phil skimmed over the pages of the file until he found a picture. He came face to face with a pale face and eyes filled with pain. It was hard to believe this tiny wisp of a child was ten. She barely looked seven.

"I think so too," he finally said, staring John in the eye. "Get whatever papers you need and we'll sign them."

Phil never knew that John's face could turn that shade of purple.


	2. Meeting The Family Part I: Trip

_**Sorry for the wait and the short chapter. Warning, small thoughts of suicide in this chapter.**_

 _ **Suicide is a very serious matter. If you ever feel the urge to self-harm or think that the world is better without you, I beg that you tell someone and get help. You're a good person who deserves to be happy, never forget that.**_

* * *

When Skye met the happy couple, all she could think was that it was too good to be true. Everything about them just screamed perfect and cheery. There was no way in hell that they'd be here for her.

"These'll be your new foster parents," Garrett said gruffly. Skye tuned out the rest of the conversation, she knew it word for word.

What was their deal, these Coulsons? Did they hope that they could "fix" her too? She swore to God, if they were, she was going to run away.

The child had been thinking about it for a while now, leaving this hell, and she was seriously considering it. Out there in the real world, she didn't have anyone to impress, no one who knew her well enough to give looks of pity or disgust, and best of all, no need to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

She was Skye, a messed up kid whose parents abandoned her. She had no particular plans for her life, and if things continued the things they were now, she'd probably be dead by the time she turned eighteen.

Would it even matter, surviving? Why was she even doing this? She didn't have anything to fight for, to live for. Why was she holding back?

Skye winced at the soft, slender fingers on her shoulder. What was it with people and physical contact?

The man, thankfully getting the hint, removed his hand. "I'm Phil Coulson. This is my wife, Melinda." He gestured to the woman beside him. Intimidating, but cares for her kids. The woman didn't seem so bad. The man, however…

"We're going to be fostering you." Skye resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They didn't need to talk to her like she was a baby, she'd been through the process enough times to know how it works. "Do you want to come with us?"

Skye blinked. She knew exactly what they were doing. This was one of their little mind games. She nodded almost instantly. No point pissing off the couple _and_ Garrett.

The man smiled at her as if she told him that she got accepted into one of the most prestigious colleges in the world.. These people were just strange, she decided.

"Well, that's it then. Pack your bags kid, you're going home with them."

Skye walked away without a comment. They were always ignored, so why bother saying them at all?

* * *

Skye was different, Melinda decided as she watched her husband interact with the child. Probably had a history of abuse if her aversion to physical contact said anything. Quiet. Rather shy as well.

With time, perhaps Skye would let down the walls around her heart. All the child needed was someone who would give her that chance.

"You need some help getting your stuff together?" Melinda asked once she noticed that Skye only had her backpack. The child in question shook her head. "You're done?" Skye nodded, gripping the straps of her pack tightly.

Her heart sank. All the kid's belongings in one bag? It was just wrong. Kids should have tons of stuff, enough that their rooms are a complete mess.

Melinda held back a sigh and gave a strained smile. "Let's go."

* * *

"You know, our other kids have been bugging us for a while now to get them a little sister," Phil said.

Skye didn't dignify a response, instead staring out the window with blank eyes.

Phil wasn't sure what to do. When they took Trip and Natasha in, they had already been familiar with one another and their habits. Hunter talked enough for three people. He didn't know how to deal with a silent child. After all, weren't kids supposed to be bouncing off the walls and tiring their parents out?

He poked and prodded at the child's mental barriers, asking any question that came to his mind. Skye gave one word responses in the rare case she even spoke. Eventually, the man just gave up and turned on the radio.

* * *

They were at her new house. House, not home. A home was somewhere you felt safe and loved, a house was just a roof above your head and walls surrounding you.

As far as houses went, it wasn't bad. Every child got their own room, there were several bathrooms so they wouldn't have to wait hours to take a shower, and the garden was nice.

Their little tour was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Nat's coming by tomorrow, right?"

Melinda nodded. "It's probably Trip. He mentioned that they were having a short day at school today, something about maintenance."

Sensing Skye's confusion, Phil explained. "Trip's one of our kids. Second youngest now that you're here."

"I'll get the door." Skye turned away from the couple, eyes raking over the series of pictures in front of them. In them were Melinda and Phil, along with a smiling African-American man - probably a joker if those eyes said anything - a short redhead who pointedly looked away from the camera in every picture, and a very familiar face.

Skye stiffened. She knew that stupid, annoying, rage-inducing face anywhere. Fate just hated her, didn't they?

* * *

Trip couldn't wait. He'd been begging Mel and Phil for a little sister for a long time and he finally got one. Trip paused and looked down on himself. Ruffled clothes with tears. Not the best way to make a first impression. Hopefully, his charming personality, as Bobbi and Hunter put it, would be enough that she'd get a good first impression of him. You only get those once.

Mind bumbling with questions, Trip decided to ask the simplest one. "Where is she?"

"In the spare room, Phil's probably trying to get her into Captain America." He burst into laughter. It had become a thing for Coulson to try and get kids and teens addicted to Cap, whether it was his own or ones who come by the gym with their parents. So far, he only had two successes: their neighbor, Steve, and Hunter.

"You sure he's not explaining how sacred Lola is?" Phil's Captain America obsession was nothing compared to his love of that Red '62 Corvette. Many often joked that he loved that car more than his own family and Captain America combined. It was an understandable assumption, seeing as his dad grounded Hunter for a month and shot him a glare every time their eyes met for the next three when he accidently spilled some grape juice on the driver's seat. Trip's father never let his big brother within a five foot radius of that car since that incident.

"Don't scare her," Melinda said sternly. "It's her first day and we don't need your bubbling personality to scar her for life."

"Hey, Hunter loved me at first sight!"

"Hunter is probably the one person who talks even more than you do." Sadly, that fact was true. They weren't called 'The Babbling Brothers' without a reason.

"Fine." Trip waited a second in hopes that he wouldn't appear so needy. "So, where's the kid?"

"Antoine!" It felt good to be home.

* * *

Trip crept up the stairs as quietly as possible, hoping to catch a glance of his new little sibling before his parents would scold him.

Sadly, he was only able to see her from the back, and he wasn't happy with what he saw. Sad if the slouch said anything, but there was something more by the way she shrunk into herself. Fear. Was his little sis afraid of them?

"I know you're there." Trip nearly cursed and exited his hiding spot, putting on his best sheepish expression. He hated the way her voice sounded, like everything was hopeless. He was going to change that tone of voice. Trip was going to make her see how amazing this family was.

The little girl turned around, giving him his first look at her face. His earlier presumptions were wrong. She wasn't adorable. She was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"Trip. It's actually Antoine Triplett, but Trip sounds better. And I tend to trip over stuff a lot. It's nice to meet you." Trip offered a hand, resisting the urge to slap himself at the same time. He probably sounded creepy and weird rather than giving the awesome first impression he swore to do.

The little girl didn't take his hand, but she looked at him in a new interest, and he even caught the slightest twitch at the corners of her lips. Trip would take appearing like an idiot again and again if it meant he would someday see the little beauty in front of him give a huge smile.

"Skye."


End file.
